


Empty

by stripe1809



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: M/M, also the title is pretty crap but I suck at coming up with them so, this is just 900 words of pain im sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-27
Updated: 2018-10-27
Packaged: 2019-08-08 11:38:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16428659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stripe1809/pseuds/stripe1809
Summary: "His grip on the whiskey glass tightened and he threw it contents down his throat before turning back to the drinks trolley and pouring himself another. And another. And then another."-Magnus' thoughts after losing his magic.





	Empty

It was as if the only thing that he could feel was emptiness. The suffocating weight of just… nothing weighing him down and forcing him to turn and pour out a third glass of whiskey. He was drowning in it.

He had felt it before of course; he had lived a very, very long life. Magnus Bane was certainly no stranger to the unwanted feeling of emptiness.

But this time it was different. It wasn’t the same kind of emptiness that he had felt when Camille broke his heart and he swore to never love again. It wasn’t the same kind of emptiness he felt every time another mortal loved one passed on, leaving him behind, stuck in a never ending youth. It wasn’t the same kind of emptiness that he felt when he turned his back and walked away from his Alexander in order to protect and save his people.

It was different.

Because this time, it wasn’t his heart that was empty. It was his soul. The very essence of who he is – gone, stripped away, leaving almost nothing behind.

It felt like nothing.

It was _nothing_.

 _Nothing_. **_Nothing_**. **_NOTHING_**.

Anger swept in then. His grip on the whiskey glass tightened and he threw it contents down his throat before turning back to the drinks trolley and pouring himself another. And another. And then another.

‘ _Nothing_.’ He thought, pouring more and more of the burning liquid down his throat, ‘ _I am ABSOLUTELY **NOTHING** NOW!_ ’

Suddenly there was a loud crash, and shards of his whiskey glass fell down onto his carpet with a soft thump, landing at his feet.

He stopped. Everything just went still.

He’d thrown the glass.

Magnus stared at where the shards had fallen, his chest heaving up and down as he breathed, then took set backwards and collapsed down onto the floor leaning back against the sofa. He sat there for what seemed like eternity, just staring at the shards of broken glass.

He couldn’t fix it.

He couldn’t fix anything anymore.

His magic had gone.

He still remembered the first time he had used it when he was 8 years old, accidentally turning the pillow on his bed a very vibrant shade of purple and being incredibly startled by it, before cautiously prodding it again with his finger and a tiny blue spark shot out turning it back to normal. The feeling of it had been exhilarating, it made him feel… complete. Like the final jigsaw piece fitting into place.

Magnus smiled then, bittersweet. He was never going to get that feeling ever again. From now on it was just… emptiness. He felt hollow.

He slowly rose to his feet and began to gather the shards of glass in his hands, taking them through to the kitchen and placing them in the bin.

His magic has gone, taken away by his father, so he could break Lilith’s hold on Jace. So Alexander wouldn’t have to kill his parabatai.

He walked back into his lounge, stumbling a little from the alcohol. It seemed to have more effect on him now his power had gone.

‘Alexander,’ he thought then. ‘My Alexander.’

His eyes then drifted to the copy of _The Fellowship of the Ring_ sitting on the coffee table. Alec had been reading it the night before they found out Jace was possessed by Lilith. The air had still been a little tense from their discussion about Magnus’ immortality, yet Alec had still smiled lovingly when Magnus brought him cup of tea and leaned into his shoulder when they sat down together in the late evening to read.

Magnus picked the book up and stroked its cover with care, a soft smile crossing briefly across his face. He took a deep sigh. No matter what he still couldn’t have let Alec kill his own parabatai. His brother. He couldn’t have stood by and watch how it would slowly break Alec apart. Even if it didn’t happen the way it did he would’ve still found another way to prevent Alec from doing it. It could’ve been so different.

‘Yes,’ he thought. ‘Things could have been different.’

If Lorenzo Rey had allowed the warlocks to help, if he was still the High Warlock of Brooklyn, if Asmodeus had asked for something different. If he had never given that potion to Lilith, unsure at whether or not to do so at first, but swayed by the mention of Ragnor Fell.

Magnus closed his eyes then, the guilt of the consequences of that action filling him to the brim. What it had done to Jace and Clary. The people who were possessed, and forced to kill their loved ones because of it.

The consequences of that action were what led to Alec close to death with his own arrow stuck in his chest in that alley. What led to Clary being missing, presumed dead by the Clave. What led to Jace becoming a broken version of what he had once been, himself riddled with the guilt of his actions. What led to Simon trying and failing to come to terms with the fact that he may have killed his best friend, after suffering the loss of his family merely hours before.

His one action had caused the pain and suffering of nearly every single person that he cared about.

He placed the book back down on the coffee table and turned towards the drinks cart once again.

‘I’m nothing now,’ he thought, as he poured another glass of whiskey out and brought it to his lips. ‘And I deserve it.’

 

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr @magnusalxander :)


End file.
